


Grande with 5 Pumps of Syrup & a Dollop of Whipped Cream

by koiisbatman



Series: Coffee Shop Saga [2]
Category: Psych
Genre: 5+1 Things, Confessions, M/M, Sequel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-16
Updated: 2018-01-16
Packaged: 2019-03-05 11:23:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,970
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13386780
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/koiisbatman/pseuds/koiisbatman
Summary: Five times Shawn Spencer tried to tell Carlton Lassiter that he wasn't a psychic and the time that Carlton Lassiter figured it out.[ Part 2 of Coffee Shop Saga ]





	Grande with 5 Pumps of Syrup & a Dollop of Whipped Cream

**Author's Note:**

> Here it [finally] is! It only took me like four months to finally finish this ... Hopefully you all enjoy!
> 
> This is a sequel to By Whatever Beans Necessary. Technically, you don't have to have read BWBN to read this, but I would recommend reading that first to fully enjoy this fic!

**1\. The Cake**

By the time that Shawn was firmly planted in Carlton Lassiter’s life, he started thinking about revealing to the head detective just how it was he was able to psychically divine killers and kidnappers left and right. He knew that it grated on Carlton’s nerves to no end. Any time that Shawn started with a ‘Hey Lassie?’ in that ‘I-have-a-confession-to-make’ tone, Carlton always looked so hopeful, only to be disappointed when he confessed something like leaving the laundry in the washer.

It started with a cake. A simple birthday cake. He had seen one in the store where a kid was enthusiastically shouting to his mom about how it  _ had _ to say ‘Happy Birthday Johnny’ and signed by Batman because none of the other kids believed that he knew Batman. Shawn had walked over to the case where the cakes were kept and the gears in his mind began to turn.

Cake! That was his style. He could get a cake and have a message written on it! He wasn’t  _ directly _ saying it then, the cake was! The more he thought about it, the more he had decided that was the correct answer. He’d give his confession to Carlton via cake. Hell, he could even put a nail file in it as a joke about using it when the detective hauled him off to jail for fraud. 

At least, he hoped that Carlton wouldn’t do that.

He thought that their relationship was pretty solid and that the only reason Carlton even got upset with him about the whole psychic thing was because he  _ knew _ that Shawn was lying to him. If he came clean about how he did it, then maybe Carlton would be less harsh on those days when he was at wit’s end and didn’t want to have to deal with “that psychic bullshit”. He could see just how Shawn did it and maybe he could even give Carlton a few pointers! He really hoped that the head detective wouldn’t throw him in jail.

Once he had finally gained the courage to go through with it, the fake psychic had purchased the cake; a classic white with blue trim and accents. On top, the cake read:

_ Dearest Lassie, _

_ You were right all along! It’s not the spirits, _

_ it’s my eidetic memory and good looks. _

_ Xoxo, Shawn _

It was short, simple, to the point, and they’d even get to have cake afterwards! It was a win-win situation really. Shawn had brought the cake home and sat it on the counter, eyeing it carefully as he waited for Carlton to return home from the station. 

Minutes turned to hours and Shawn grew more nervous. What if the cake was a bad idea? What if Carlton really did throw him in jail? What if he  _ hated cake _ ?! After a few hours of being left alone with his thoughts, Shawn’s heart was racing. He felt he was on the verge of an anxiety attack. Only Gus and his dad (who he’d only let in on this secret because he needed his help and it had cost him a weekend of repainting the house) had known his secret. He loved Carlton, he really did, and he trusted him but this was a  _ huge _ confession.

His hands shook as he tried to calm himself down, reassuring himself that he was getting freaked out over nothing. Carlton loved him, had told him that very thing that morning, and this wasn’t something that would change that. If anything, this would make Carlton more open to him.

Hiding this secret for so long, however, held him back and reminded him of every little thing that could go wrong; every criminal that could be back out on the street because of him, and those who managed to stay locked up would have a field day seeing him behind locked doors. By the time that he heard the detective walking up to the front door, Shawn dove for the kitchen.

Immediately, his hands went for the top of the cake, smooshing it between his hands to erase the message that had been carefully scrawled by him on top. Shawn finished just as the door swung open and Carlton made his way to the kitchen to see his boyfriend with hands coated in cake and frosting.

“... Shawn. What the hell?”

The fake psychic looked from his hands to the cake, back to this hands, then to Carlton. “Have you ever wanted to just shove your hands in a cake? It’s fun. You should try it. There’s still plenty left!”

Carlton looked at him suspiciously. “You wasted a perfectly good cake because you wanted to shove your hands in it?”

“Well, I wouldn’t say that I  _ wasted _ it …” Shawn hummed before bringing a frosting and cake coated finger up towards the detective’s lips, wagging his brows. After a moment, Carlton’s tongue darted out to lick the sweet mixture off of the digit before taking the whole finger in his mouth to properly clean it.

“Mmm … I suppose that’s true …” He said with a small smirk. “Let’s get you cleaned up.”

 

**2\. Chalk Drawing**

Nearly a month had passed after the cake debacle (really,  _ was _ it a debacle?) and Shawn had found himself trying to figure out another way to bring up his non-psychicness. Once again, he thought he had discovered the perfect way, this time by watching some kids that lived on their street. As he sat outside of their home, he noticed that one of the girls that lived across the street had gotten a new box of sidewalk chalk and had been excited to tell everyone and anyone who went by. 

He left to get a pineapple smoothie and by the time he had returned, she had coated the street in different stick figure drawings.

“Mr. Shawn, Mr. Shawn! Look! I got chalk!”

Shawn laughed as he wandered closer to look at the art, “Whoa! Is that a cat?” She nodded vigorously, a giant smile plastered on her face. “Hey, have you ever played hopscotch?”

“Nu-uh … What’s that?”

“Can I see a piece of chalk? I’ll show you?”

She handed him the thick, green colored chalk and he set out to draw the boxes on the ground. He spent the next hour showing her how to play, then playing with her. Once they grew tired of bouncing around, he sat on the sidewalk, sketching out a dinosaur.

“That’s so good, Mr. Shawn!”

“Aww … Thanks Emily.”

“Will you come draw again tomorrow?”

“Of course! As long as I don’t have to go to work.”

The girl stuck out her tongue, “Work is gross. I don’t ever wanna work when I grow up.”

Shawn couldn’t help but laugh. He totally understood the sentiment. Bidding her a farewell, the fake psychic headed inside to start cooking. Carlton would be there shortly, probably exhausted from whatever case he had to work that day. 

Carlton.

That was when it dawned on him.  Why not draw it out in chalk? He could write it out on the sidewalk and it could be a surprise when the detective got home from work that evening! Perfect! 

The idea lingered in his head all throughout dinner, their nightly rituals, and even into the morning. He hopped on his motorcycle and soon found himself at the dollar store. It took him awhile to find the cheap, washable sidewalk chalk, making sure to grab an extra pack for Emily. 

As soon as he got home, his masterpiece began on the driveway. He drew little stick figures of both himself and Carlton, and even an area to play hopscotch in for Emily when she came out. He drew a few other simple things to remind Carlton of the adventures they’d gone on (including a coffee cup for how they met).

After Emily had come and gone, Shawn finally mustered the courage to scrawl out

_ Lassiekins, _

_ I know you’ve wanted to know for a while how I do it. _

_ It’s all in my memory; not hocus pocus. _

_ Although Hocus Pocus is an amazing movie. _

_ I know what our Halloween costumes are going to be. _

_ Xoxo, Shawn _

Standing back, he grinned at the work. His confession seemed like such a small thing when he had added all of the small drawings of them around it. Even Emily’s adolescent drawings of a grumpy Carlton solidified that this had been the best way to confess, not the cake.

Then came the waiting. He knew it shouldn’t take long for Carlton to return from the station, but the longer he sat there, the same nerves he felt with the cake reappeared. What if this cute gesture would be the one to put him behind bars? How could he write it in something so permanent? It was sitting there for any Joe Schmoe to see! What if some random news reporter happened to come by and see Shawn’s confession?

Without another thought, Shawn had grabbed some of the chalk and began to black out the words. Once it had looked like a classified government file done in chalk, he ran to grab the hose and began to wash away the hidden words.

That was how Carlton found him.

The detective parked on the street so as to not interfere with whatever his boyfriend was doing. Slipping out of the car, he gave Shawn an inquisitive look.

“Lassie! Sorry … I was trying to wash it off before you got home. I thought you might not like it but Emily and I had a fun day drawing …”

“Emily? Mrs. Peterson’s daughter across the street?” Shawn nodded as Carlton wandered over to look at the remaining drawings. A smile appeared across the detective’s face as he saw the grumpy stick figure drawings that he surmised must have been himself along with little things that Shawn must have drawn. “... Is that a Oujia planchette? From the Rogers case?” He turned, “And Tom Selleck’s mustache? And a coffee cup …”

Shawn shrugged almost sheepishly, washing away his confession lost in the back of his mind. Carlton moved over to wrap his arms around the male, “Why would you think I wouldn’t like this? Its … Cute.”

“Seriously?”

“Spencer. You know I don’t use the word ‘cute’ lightly.”

Shawn laughed, all tension gone. He might have liked the drawings but he knew he would have hated the confession. “Well … Next time that Emily and I go on a drawfest, I’ll be sure to leave them behind so you can see. Now … C’mon. I think we have some take out to order and you get to tell me about why your case had you running through chickens.”

“How did you -- …” Carlton paused as Shawn reached up and plucked a stray feather from his hair. Muttering a curse to himself, he shook his head, “I thought I’d gotten all of them.”

“C’mon big guy,” Shawn said with a laugh.

 

**3\. A Card**

Shawn both loved and hated shopping for birthday cards. He’d already been in the aisle for so long that one of the store workers had stopped by twice to ask if he was finding everything alright. How many times did he have to explain that he was just trying to find the best card possible for his boyfriend’s birthday? There were just so many choices! 

He could go with a funny one, but that was kind of predictable. He could go with a serious one, but how serious was too serious? Then there were the ones that played music! Sighing, he ran a hand through his hair before pausing. Wait … This was another perfect idea! He’d been trying to figure out another way to tell Carlton about his gift and this looked like it would be a great opportunity. This was much more private and personal than the chalk drawings.

Another thirty minutes passed before Shawn finally settled on two different cards: a somewhat serious one that would be his main card and a funny card that would be his ‘present’ with his confession in it.

Shawn treated Carlton to dinner at a rather nice restaurant (he even managed to put on a coat and tie!), trying to keep calm the entire time. He couldn’t stop thinking about the card and how Carlton would react. He knew, after two failed attempts to do this already, that Carlton probably wouldn’t throw him in jail. He’d probably be a little disappointed and there would be a lot of ‘told you that psychics don’t exist’, but he wouldn’t throw Shawn in jail.

Nonetheless, he felt as if he were on the verge of some sort of anxiety attack the entire night, not that Carlton seemed to notice, thankfully. By the time dinner was over and they returned home, Shawn was jittery.

“Shawn … Is everything okay?”

Okay, maybe he wasn’t playing this off as smooth as he thought he was. “Hm? Oh yeah, Lassie! Everything’s fine!”

Carlton frowned, crossing his arms over his chest. He knew that look. That was the beginning of Interrogation Lassie. “ _ Shawn _ ,” He said in a warning tone. 

Crap. He had to think of something quick otherwise Carlton was never going to leave it alone. He wasn’t afraid of accidentally spilling the beans thanks to Interrogation Lassie, he was better than that, but he didn’t want Carlton’s birthday to go downhill because he wouldn’t be able to crack Shawn’s mind. The fake psychic sighed. “Sorry … I was just worried that your birthday wasn’t going to be … Y’know …  _ Good _ .”

“Was that it? That’s why you were so  _ off _ at dinner?”

“Er … Yeah?”

Carlton sighed, seeming to accept Shawn’s response. Moving over, Carlton wrapped his arms around Shawn. “Shawn … This is one of the best birthdays I’ve had in the past few years. Stop overthinking whenever we do something like this …”

“Yeah, yeah … Well, you haven’t opened your card or your present yet, so … There’s still time for you to change your mind.”

This seemed to pique Carlton’s curiosity. Shawn held out the first card, letting Carlton read over the card that talked about how much Shawn loved him and his hopes for the future. By the time that Carlton finished with it, he stood in a stunned silence.

“... Well?” Shawn asked timidly. Maybe that card had been one of the ‘too serious’ cards that he’d been worried he was going to get.

“Shawn … This is …  _ Beautiful _ . This is … I don’t have words for it,” He said quietly. Pulling the fake psychic in for another hug, he kissed him happily. “If this is your card … I can only imagine what your present is.”

Shawn couldn’t ruin this good moment with the other card. He’d reached peak perfect boyfriend and he wasn’t about to throw a wrench into that machine right now. Pulling away, he grinned some. 

“You’ll just have to unwrap your present in the bedroom,” He said, giving Carlton a wink as he shimmied out of his coat, tossing it on the ground as a hint as to what exactly Carlton was going to unwrap.

He’d destroy the second card tomorrow.

 

**4\. Dominoes**

Honestly, this shouldn’t be that hard! Shawn had already chickened out three times over something that Carlton already knew about.

“Shawn,” Gus said, sipping on his coffee, “Just tell him! I don’t know why you’re so hell bent on doing it some weird way. If you’re going to tell him then just sit him down and tell him! You’ve already committed to it, all you have to do is  _ do it _ .”

“Trust me, Gus, I know,” He said, exasperated. “I just get stuck in my head and all these ‘what ifs’ and I panic. Do you know that I committed the ultimate sin and destroyed a cake doing this?!”

“You didn’t eat the cake after?”

“Well …  _ something _ got eaten after,” He said with a wink.

“Nope. I don’t wanna hear it, Shawn. I already told you I didn’t want to hear anything about you and Lassiter’s sex life.” Shawn broke out into laughter as Gus looked unamused. “All I’m saying is that I’m sure Lassiter would much rather you just tell him outright than go through some ridiculous over-the-top gesture.”

Shawn groaned, “It’s just not that easy …”

“It  _ is _ . You just wanna do it in a Shawn way instead of a normal way,” Gus said with a snort. “Look, I know you love him and he loves you. This isn’t going to change his mind about anything. Just talk to him, Shawn.” Glancing at his watch he stood. “You ready to go? The Domino Trade Show is going to open soon.”

“Oh! Yeah! Don’t wanna be late for that,” He said with a grin as he stood up quickly. “I heard they have FlippyCat setting up some crazy domino stacks. We definitely can’t miss that.”

“You know that’s right.”

By the end of the day,Shawn had his idea. A few hours of surfing around on eBay and the fake psychic had purchased several bags of dominoes. It took a few weeks for all of his supplies to come in and once they did, he just had to wait for the perfect day.

Knowing that Carlton would be out all day, trying to wrap up some case that had been bothering him since the night prior, Shawn set to work. It took a majority of the day for him to perfectly write out ‘ _ I have eidetic memory. Not psychic. Xoxo, Shawn _ ’ perfectly in dominoes so that the message would be there, then they could have the fun of knocking over the dominoes afterwards.

Shawn was doing well; the hours ticked by and he hadn’t destroyed the message yet. He kept telling himself that everything would be okay. Carlton would be okay with all of this. Well, he might not be okay with the domino mess afterwards, but he felt a bit more confident with the whole thing. Maybe the talk with Gus was what he needed.

By the time that Shawn heard the Crown Vic’s car door slam, he was ready. He could totally do this! The door opened and he could tell just how pissed Carlton was from the grumbling that came from the detective. He must not have caught his perp. The fake psychic panicked. If Carlton was in a bad mood … This was not the time to do this!

Diving for the dominoes, he effectively erased the message as Carlton crossed the threshold into the living room, catching Shawn laying in a mess of tiles. Standing for a moment, he shook his head, “I’m not even going to ask. You’re going to clean that up.”

“Well duh, Lassie … I wasn’t going to make you clean it up … Unless you wanted to? Which it definitely seems like you don’t want to do today,” Shawn hummed. He stood and watched as Carlton went off to grab some alcohol and sit at the table.

Moving up behind the head detective, Shawn carefully massaged his shoulders. “Tell me about your day, Lassie.”

 

**5\. The Sit Down**

Shawn was beginning to think that Gus was right. He’d tried all of the good ways to confess to Carlton and all of those had ended in tremendous failure. Maybe all he had to do was sit Carlton down and let it all spill out. However, as he told Gus, it was so much easier said than done.

First, there was the problem of trying to find a good time to sit the head detective down. The both of them had been so busy lately with the number of cases they had taken on that they had barely had time just to decompress each day. Sometimes they were lucky to even see each other for an hour or two. Of course, Shawn couldn’t complain when their long hours paid off and Carlton was given an award from the Mayor for bringing down a huge drug ring while solving two murders at the same time.

Then, there was the whole actually telling Carlton thing. He’d psyched himself up so many times by this point that the confession seemed so much bigger than he could handle. 

“You know,” Gus started, giving Shawn a look over his ice cream cone. “Lassiter knows something’s up.”

This startled Shawn so much he’d nearly dropped his own pineapple soft serve ice cream. “ _ What _ ?” He asked, staring at his best friend.

“Juliet was telling me that Lassiter kept asking her if everything was alright with you. He said, whatever it was, you wouldn’t discuss it with him so he wanted to know if you had told her anything.”

Shawn groaned as he ran his hand over his face. “Not good …”

“What do you mean it’s not good? This is perfect! He knows you want to talk, just sit him down already! Honestly, Shawn … By now he probably thinks its something way worse than it actually is. He’d probably be relieved if you just told him.”

“You’re right … You’re right.”

“I know I’m right. Just do it, Shawn.”

“What did I do to deserve such a good friend as you?”

“No clue. But you can pay me back by buying lunch.”

“Fries Quatro Queso Dos Fritos?”

“Hell yes.”

Shawn found himself pacing back and forth by the time he got home. He’d texted Lassiter to tell him he wanted to talk (and ask him to pick up some take out on the way home). When Carlton finally got home, Thai take out in hand, he looked worried beyond belief. Shawn felt like shit for making him worry. 

“Hey … What’s that face for?” He asked, trying to break the ice.

“You said you wanted to  _ talk _ …” Carlton said, frowning some. He waited a moment for Shawn to speak up. When the fake psychic didn’t start, he wrung his hands together, “Look, if you wanted to break up, then you should just tell me--”

“Whoa! Whoa. Back up there Lassiepants. Where did you get this whole breaking up thing from?”

Carlton looked genuinely confused by now. “You’ve been acting weird … Almost distant. Like there’s too much on your mind. Then you said you wanted to talk … I just thought … That’s how everyone who has broken up with me has acted …”

Shawn moved over to him quickly, placing his hands on either side of Carlton’s face, steadying him and forcing him to look at the fake detective. “Carlton Lassiter. I absolutely do not wanna break up with you. I could see myself being with you for like …  _ ever _ , which is scary as hell to me since I’m not the best with commitment, but there’s no way in hell I’m giving up this thing we’ve got going on.”

“Then … What did you want to talk about? What was all this about …?” Immediately, Shawn looked nervous which just made Carlton more worried. “You can talk to me about anything, Shawn. Is it the guys at the station? Did they say something?”

“No, no. They didn’t say anything. Besides, if they did, I can handle that.”

“Then what is it?”

He knew he needed to do it. Just get it out there. Tell Carlton everything. Maybe he’d think it was hilarious, all the failed attempts at trying to confess Shawn had gone through prior to now. As time ticked by, Shawn realized he just couldn’t do it. He couldn’t say it. “My uh … My parents … I was thinking about having them over for dinner one night.”

Carlton’s face screwed up, watching Shawn as if to detect whether or not that was a lie. It hadn’t been a lie, just … Not what Shawn had originally intended on telling the detective. “If you want to, that’s fine with me … I don’t understand why you were so worried about telling me. I’ve met both of them before …”

“Yeah but we haven’t had a y’know … ‘You’re dating my son’ dinner yet! That kind of thing is big! My mom’s going to psychoanalyze you and everything! My dad can bring out his gun and say something about ‘if you ever hurt my boy’ or … Something. I mean, that’s what they all do in the movies, right?”

As Shawn freaked out slightly, Carlton laughed, relaxing immensely as he kissed the fake psychic. “Shawn. It’s fine. See when the best time is for them to come over and I’ll cook us something that night, okay?”

“... Only if I get to be your sous chef.”

“We’ll see about that.”

 

**+1. Observations**

Carlton was glad that they had finally gotten past the whole parent dinner thing. Shawn had been nonstop nervous about the whole thing when, really, it hadn’t been that big of a deal. It certainly wasn’t something he thought that Shawn needed to agonize over for weeks. He had originally hoped that Shawn was going to tell him about this whole psychic schtick, but when he saw how freaked out he was, Carlton knew that couldn’t be it. 

To be frank, Carlton was amazed that Shawn had held out this long. They were coming up on their two year anniversary and he thought that Shawn would have come clean months ago. Any time that he brought it up, Shawn just laughed it off and insisted on spirits this and spirits that. So, he’d just given up. Either Shawn would finally just come out and tell him or he would figure it out on his own.

This was a puzzle he’d love to solve; the ultimate mystery for a detective such as himself. Unfortunately, he hadn’t had much time to really delve into the mystery that was Shawn Spencer’s psychic ability. There had been a wave of crime the likes of which Santa Barbara had never seen which kept both himself and Shawn busy. The upside to all of this was the amount of time that Shawn was called in to consult on a case. He still didn’t approve of his methods, but he enjoyed sitting back, watching Shawn’s mind work.

That was when it happened.

The more cases they worked together on, the more cases he got to see Shawn  _ work _ . He watched as Shawn would put his hand up to his head, supposedly talking to spirits as his eyes raked over the crime scene. Later, when they needed another piece of information, Shawn would repeat the process but usually with his eyes closed. Carlton surmised that he must have been painting the picture of the crime scene behind those closed eyes.

Somehow, Shawn could  _ remember _ the crime scene.

It seemed to be a repeating pattern that the fake psychic would cover up with his flailing and talk of spirits. Now that he saw it, it was all too clear. Especially when Shawn found something curious that the spirits would need to tell them immediately. The fake psychic would get this confused look on his face, sometimes with an added head tilt, focusing on the object before immediately going on about spirits, pointing out whatever object had caught his gaze.

Finally! He’d figured it out, which brought them to their normal Sunday night dinner. Carlton had grilled them up some burgers and listened to Shawn chatter on about his day with Gus and their trip to the planetarium. When he could no longer take it, Carlton blurted out, “You’re not a psychic.”

This caused Shawn to pause, caught off guard as his story had been cut off. “Lassie … We’ve been over this before …” He could see Shawn ready to launch into his typical response about just how psychic he was.

“Spirits don’t exist. They don’t tell you where there’s a piece of vital evidence. You just  _ see _ it.”

“Yeah, with my third eye.”

Carlton gave a sigh. “No, you’re just … You can see it! Like … I bet you know exactly what pen Juliet handed me today.” It had been an obnoxious pen she claimed to have gotten on her last trip to New York, but no one had brought any attention to the pen while it had been in Shawn’s presence.

“It was an I Heart NYC pen that was shaped like the Statue of Liberty,” Shawn said with ease.

“You can somehow see every detail of a crime scene and then  _ remember _ it later. You catch things that we don’t see, but are highly visible to you …”

“I will.”

Carlton looked confused. That wasn’t the answer he had been expecting. “What? You will what? Am I right?”

“I will marry you.”

“Shawn … I didn’t ask--”

“Yes you did. It’s been just over a year since you asked me, just under two years since we started officially dating. You made a deal with me. I said if you figured out how I did it, I’d marry you and you said--”

“Deal. I said, ‘deal’,” Carlton said, almost speechless.

“So yes, Carlton Lassiter, I will marry you.”

Carlton’s brain was still playing catch up. Finally, his face lit up and he left his half eaten food, rushing over to hug Shawn tightly. “God, Shawn … “

“Just Shawn is fine, no need for the ‘God’ part,” He teased.

Kissing him happily, Carlton pulled away. “I didn’t get you a ring, but we can go get one tomorrow … I … Shit, this was way better than I’d expected … I forgot all about that, but I want to marry you, Shawn Spencer. I want to spend the rest of my life with you.”

“Yeah, I want all of that too, Lassie,” He said. “I’m scared as hell but … I think I’m ready.”

Later, once the two of them had taken to moving the celebration to the bedroom and they were laying tangled together, Shawn had his head on Carlton’s shoulder, humming contently. “It’s an eidetic memory coupled with being hyper observant,” He confessed. “Do you know how many times I was going to tell you that and I chickened out?”

“How many?”

Shawn laughed, “Well … There was the time with the cake …”


End file.
